Scandal
by SIR JAZZ
Summary: “You know that evil, devilishly handsome womanizer type of guy that your father always tells you to stay away from?” he asked, staring directly into her eyes, causing her to flinch.  “That’s me.” SasuHina AU
1. Knight in Shining Armor

**Title: Scandal  
****Author: NEKKEDRT  
****Rated: T  
****Genre: Romance/Drama  
****Summary: "You know that evil, devilishly handsome womanizer type of guy that your father always tells you to stay away from?" he asked, staring directly into her eyes, causing her to flinch. "That's me." SasuHina AU  
****Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor am I making any form of profit in writing this fic. This chapter is taken from the first installment of Zoey Dean's The A-List series. The rest of the story will not comprise of any parts from this book.  
My apologies for taking all the credit.**

Hyuuga Hinata sat in her first-class seat, calmly reading a _Fast Company_ magazine, legs tucked neatly into a corner, hands clasping the pages, eyes rapidly scanning the article. Her father told her to pick it up just before she boarded the place, because there was an article about a 17-year old CEO, a girl with a million-dollar idea, and an investment of a mere eight dollars.

Her father was always telling her to read up on things like this. Hyuuga Hiashi made sure that his successor was well-educated not only in business, but also in others' lives, with stories and examples from which she could draw conclusions from.

Though she seemed cool and collected on the outside, she struggled to keep her hands from trembling, and bit her lip in uncertainty. This was another skill that her father made sure she pick up. No matter how nerve-wrecked or apprehensive you were about the situation or coming situations, you must remain composed to the outside eye.

She sighed quietly, closing her eyes for a brief instant. For the first time in ten years, she would see her father and her sister.

Hinata was currently on a five-hour direct flight from New York to Los Angeles, California, Beverly Hills to be more specific. She was more than slightly nervous about her current predicament.

What if her father hated the length of her hair? How much had Hanabi grown? Would she even be able to recognize her father and sister at the airport? Would they even remember to pick her up? Or would the secondary driver come by, telling her that an "unexpected meeting" had come up, one of which Hyuuga Hiashi simply could not miss.

For the past four years of her life, she had resided in the Upper East Side of Manhattan, the notoriously wealthier side of New York. She had just gotten her MBA in business management at New York University's Stern School of Business. At the age of twenty-one, this was considered quite a feat, but of course, this simply wasn't good enough for her father.

She graduated Salutatorian, to which her father replied, "Salutatorian? That is pure disgrace, Hinata. A Hyuuga achieves the highest honor in everything, _including_ academic studies."

Hinata frowned at the memory.

"_But father," she persisted, gripping the phone with exhausted hands, "the guy that did win the award was very intelligent. You've heard of Nara Shikamaru haven't you? He's already got several books published and—"_

"_Regardless," he interrupted, his voice condescending. "You should have received the Valedictorian award. I expect nothing less of you, Hinata."_

_She held in a sigh. "Yes, father," she replied._

"_Now get some sleep," he commanded. "Good night, Hinata."_

"_Good night, father."_

Previously, she attended elementary school back in Japan, and was then shipped off to Singapore in order to get her accustomed to a rigorous schedule at a young age. She had many sleepless nights back then, and was thrilled to find that her final three years of high school would be completed in America. Because of the difference in the Singaporean and American high school curriculum, she was immediately promoted to twelfth grade, and completed her graduate studies at NYU.

Now that she was done with school, her father wanted her back in California with him, in order to train her properly and teach her the fundamentals of becoming a business executive.

Hinata was half-excited and half-scared out of her wits, but refused to let it reflect on her outer appearance. She took a cautious bite of her linguini pasta, and grimaced, setting down her fork immediately. She hated airplane food.

"I know, the food sucks, eh?" murmured the man beside her, smirking at her reaction.

Hinata glanced to the side and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He was probably nearer forty than thirty and balding. His hair had been preserved in such a way that there were probably ten long white strands combed to the side, and the rest of it was short and clipped, save for the huge, shiny hairless area at the top of his head. She knew his kind.

She defiantly stuck in a large clump of pasta in her mouth and grinned sweetly at him. "It's absolutely delicious."

The man beside her raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Whatever tickles your fancy, I guess. Name's Bob Jones."

Hinata deadpanned. Tasteless name for a tasteless man, she noted dryly. "Shinobu Maehara," she replied quietly, staring at his wrinkled and layered forehead. "Pleasure to meet you." Two little white lies wouldn't hurt. She caught the eye of the flight attendant and requested another glass of ginger ale.

"Beauty of a name. If you want," he continued, "we could light up a couple buds, you know, primo shit. That's how I roll."

"No thanks," she rejected politely, looking out the window, staring at nothing in particular. She sighed as they passed over New Jersey. He laid a hand on her knee, and she suppressed a scowl. "Back in the day you know, there was no way that I could afford any of this stuff, but you know, that ain't really matter no more…"

And so he began to recite his rags-to-riches story, no doubt told countless times before, and Hinata found it easy to tune out his droning voice. She still nodded politely and smiled at the correct times, but soon averted her eyes, searching for something, _anything_, other than his moon-like face. Her pearly eyes landed on a younger man, about her age, dressed in a dark blue hooded-sweater, with the words CHICAGO GSB, along with the school logo, in white plastered on the front.

Hinata could only stare. His hair was jet-black and spiked up in the back, his eyes were dark, his skin pale, and his facial features were princely. Chicago Boy was, in simple, definite words, a _total_ hottie.

He winked at her, but she mistook it for an eye twitch, so she furrowed her eyebrows at him. Bob Jones placed a hand atop hers in order to get her attention again. "So yeah, that was my lameass life back in freakin' Brooklyn, before I started investing with this guy, and we formed a co… A coal… A co—coali—"

"A coalition," she offered, grinning only slightly at him.

"There ya go!" he said, nudging her side. "Man, I love a girl that knows her words. How about I get us a round of drinks? Hey, Miss!"

This time, Hinata really did roll her eyes, but not in a way that Bob Jones would see her. She turned to look at Chicago boy again and found him smirking at her, tapping the side of his nose. She could only sigh and smile slightly at him, offering a lame thumbs-up. He looked to the side and stood up, presumably to go to the bathroom.

"Here ya go," announced Bob Jones, handing her a vodka shot. He tipped his glass to hers and downed it, releasing a scratchy-sounding "Ahh…" before slamming his glass down on the foldable table in front of him. She mimicked his movements, hoping to drown out the buzzing of his annoying voice, the only one that was heard in the cabin. No doubt the neighbors in front and behind her were just as annoyed.

"Hey, let's play hangman!" he declared childishly, reaching for the remote stowed in his seat. "I bet I'll rock your ass off on his game. I'm pro."

Hinata sat up straight, legs still tucked under one another, but on the inside, she was raging and gravely annoyed. Her younger sister, Hanabi, would have dealt with this man in a single blow. After the first word uttered out of his mouth, she would have said a simple "FUCK OFF," that would have shut him up for the rest of the flight.

Hinata was finding this very hard to do. She pictured the words in her mind, imagined herself saying that to his man's face. But as soon as he turned to her with his wrinkled forehead and moon-face, the words died on her lips, and retreated back to the farthest corners of her mind, never to be said or thought of again. She hated being polite.

"Mary?"

Hinata looked up, glad to see Chicago Boy smiling down at her. He had to be at least six feet tall. "Mary, is that you?" he asked again, his deep voice reverberating against her eardrums. He had a _really_ nice voice. Nevertheless, she frowned in confusion.

"I'm sorry, I'm not—"

"_Mary_, surely you remember me. Remember when we met at that one party…" his voice trailed off, his eyes wide, as though he was expecting her to catch on.

"Ey bud, who the hell are you? Look here, this little lady told me her name was _Shinobu_, and I bet you've never even met here before. Back the hell off."

Whoever this Mary girl was, Hinata knew she was lucky as hell. She glared at Bob Jones, and started in a feeble voice, "You must be mistaken—"

"Remember me?" he asked again, leaning into the compartment above their heads. "There was this guy that was dead drunk and wasted or something, and I was trying to save you from him, because he just kept rambling about something or other…"

It was then that realization dawned on Hinata's face. He was trying to help her out. Hinata mentally smacked herself on her forehead. If she hadn't down that stupid glass of vodka so quickly, her mind probably would have been able to figure things out a whole lot quicker. "O—oh, _Mark_! Now I remember."

"Hold up, hold up," interrupted Bob, holding up his hands for emphasis. "She told me her name was _Shinobu_—"

"Okay then, Shinobu, how are you doing—"

"Hey buddy, in case you haven't noticed, this seat is taken. I was talking to her first. Now fuck off before I call the attendant."

Chicago Boy smirked at Bob Jones. "Switch seats with me, or I'll report the Thai stick you got sitting in your briefcase."

"Thai stick? Boy, you don't know what you're talking about—"

"Oh really?" piped up Hinata, smiling sweetly at Bob. "What was that thing you offered to be earlier… Oh yeah—'primo shit', that's what you called it."

Bob Jones scowled at the idea of being ousted by two immature brats and remained in his seat, arms crossed. "It's got your name on it," said Chicago Boy, waggling his eyebrows. Bob grudgingly got out of his seat, retrieved his briefcase and waddled over to the seat Chicago Boy had pointed out. He glared at them, fishing out an older version of the Sony CLIÉ from his pocket, and pretended to make himself busy.

Chicago settled into the seat beside her and offered a charming smile. "My name's not really Mark."

"That's okay," she said with a grin. "My name's not really Shinobu. Not that he could tell the difference."

"You read manga?" he asked with some semblance of surprise. "Reference to Love Hina?"

"Guilty," she admitted, a small blush grading her cheeks.

"Wow. You seem like the prep-school-cool type of girl," he replied, "you know, cool enough to drive with your legs crossed type of deal."

"Teaches you not to judge a book by its cover," she quipped with a coy smile, sipping the last of her ginger ale.

"Sasuke Uchiha," he said, extending his hand.

"Hinata Hyuuga," she replied, taking hold of his. His hands were nice. She didn't let go.

"Hope you don't mind my swooping in to save you," he murmured, eyes flicking salaciously to her lips. "I could sense your dread from a mile away."

"My agony was that palpable?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow at him.

Sasuke expelled a great gust of air that appeared to be a chuckle and he responded, "You just said palpable. And you used it in context. I didn't realize there was any girl that wore high heels and had a matching mani-pedi combo knew what 'palpable' even meant."

Hinata's eyes glittered daringly. "Want to hear more?" she began, licking her lips that were suddenly so dry. "Agglomerate. Intransigence. _Licentious_."

"Who _are_ you?" he wondered aloud, propping his chin on his free hand.

"Does it really matter?" she retorted, grinning at him.

A sort of excitement rose up from within Hinata and simmered in her stomach. She was flirting with this handsome man that had just completed his degree in business, just like her, and was heading to California for a friend's engagement party, after heading to New York for a short vacation. She told him about finishing up her graduate school, and moving back to LA so that her father could keep an eye on her, and train her to take over the family business.

"Hyuuga," murmured Sasuke. "I know I've heard that name before. Hyuuga Enterprises, perhaps?"

"That's me," she confessed, wringing her hands. "Don't take it too seriously though. I'm trying to convince my dad that my younger sister would be a better leader than me. I want to become a doctor."

"Then I guess we're in the same predicament," he affirmed. "I want to be a lawyer, or something of the sort. Anything to get away from all these numbers and conniving business execs. I've also got to take over a business."

"Uchiha," she whispered, testing the name on her lips. "I think Father has mentioned your name before. That's a biopharmaceutical company isn't it? Uchiha Corp?"

"You got it," he replied, smirking. "Stock went down when news broke out that I'd be stepping up to replace my brother. Stupid guy wants to retire at the age of thirty, which is like, in five years."

Hinata giggled, brushing her hand against his shoulder. "I'm sure you'll do fine. After all, you graduated from the best business school in the whole country."

Sasuke grinned at her. "Hey, how about you come with me to the engagement party I was talking about? I'd love to see you again."

"Really?" she asked, purely surprised. "I wouldn't mind that at all." She turned down to retrieve a pen and a piece of paper, but he grabbed her hand and jot down his phone number on the palm of her hand. He twisted his Mont Blanc pen and tucked it back into his pocket. "Call me," he said with a grin.

They had talked through the entire flight, and now they were landing. He, as chivalrous as one could get, got her bags for her from the overhead compartments, and insisted that he carry them for her through the terminal. "LAX is a big place," he told her carefully. "Wouldn't want your bags to get stolen or something."

They walked to the front and he set down her bags. "My ride's here already," he said, signaling to a man in a black Lexus. "Maybe I could give you a ride to wherever you're supposed to be?"

"No thanks," she said with a polite smile. "My dad's coming to pick me up."

"Alright then," he said, giving her a small peck on the cheek. "I'll see you around."

After he disappeared into the car and drove off, Hinata tentatively touched the spot that his lips had touched, only moments ago. Los Angeles was already proving to be quite the exciting place.

**No offense to you if your name is Bob Jones.  
****It's a fantastic name, really.  
****And I think I need beta.**


	2. Getting Reacquainted

**Title: Scandal  
Author: SIR JAZZ  
Rated: T  
Genre: Romance/Drama  
Summary: "You know that evil, devilishly handsome womanizer type of guy that your father always tells you to stay away from?" he asked, staring directly into her eyes, causing her to flinch. "That's me." SasuHina AU  
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor am I making any form of profit in writing this fic.**

Sighing, Hinata frowned, nervously clutching her Louis Vuitton suitcase in one hand, and her carry-on duffel and purse in the other. Her eyes flicked to the clock mounted on the far wall. It had been nearly half an hour since Sasuke had left, and she was worried that her father might have forgotten that her flight to LA was today. The creepy man in the taxicab kept giving her leering looks, and she hoped dearly that the all-too-familiar Hyuuga motorcade would make a sudden appearance at the airport. Her father would emerge out of the far, flashes going off everywhere, and greet her with his stony gaze. He would—

Clicking her heels together, Hinata jumped as she felt her cell phone go off in her purse. She set down her bags on the bench and rifled through her purse for her mobile, dumping out a PDA, an iPod, and other gizmos and gadgets she'd taken along for the plane ride. Not bothering to look at the caller ID (and secretly hoping it was Sasuke), she flipped it open and said in her best business-like tone, "This is Hinata."

"Geez Nee-san. With a greeting like that, it's no wonder you don't have a boyfriend yet."

Hinata's voice melted back into the warm, cheery tone it usually carried. "Hanabi! Oh Hanabi, I've missed you so much," she said happily, smiling.

"Says the one that never returned my voicemails. I just entered the airport. Which gate are you in?"

"Gate five. And what voicemails? It's not like you had the patience to leave any. I've missed hearing your voice! All I get are your chain letter text messages. You know how much I hate those," retorted Hinata with a huff, carefully putting her electronics back into her purse.

Hanabi snickered over the line. "Just want to assure you that I'm still alive and well."

"Anyhow, I'm right here, next to the bench," informed Hinata, bending to the side to see if she could find Hanabi. "What kind of car are you driving?"

"It's smooth, sexy, silver, all of the above." Hinata knew she was grinning into the phone. She really missed her sister.

"I think I see you," she exclaimed, picking up her carry-on and tugging her rolling luggage. "The coupe, is that you?"

"Yup. Yeah I think I saw you too. _Wow _nee-san, your hair's all long now!"

Hinata laughed aloud. "Yeah, the short hair thing didn't work out for me. Pull up to the curb so I can stick my stuff into the trunk."

The trunk of a silver G37 coupe popped open, and Hinata was slightly discouraged to see a huge subwoofer take up half the trunk, along with a NOS tank that occupied the entire left side of the compartment. She sighed and hefted her bags into the right side of the trunk, keeping her purse close to her chest. Once everything was in, she slammed the trunk shut and hopped into the passenger's seat of the car, giving a bright smile to her sister.

"Hana-chan!" proclaimed Hinata, enveloping her younger sister in a pathetic excuse for a side hug, seeing as the gear shift was in the way. "Oh, I missed you so much!" Hinata relaxed back into her seat, smiling brightly, and taking in her sister's appearance for the first time.

Her hair was long, brown and luxurious, reaching slightly above mid-back, a pair of Dior sunglasses perched at the top of her head. Her eyes were wide and silvery, and her cheekbones were high and defined, just like Father's. She wore a simple white Polo shirt, and patterned knee-length shorts. "You're looking pretty good Nee-san," said Hanabi slyly. "I see those melons of yours are still there."

"Hanabi!" admonished Hinata, crossing her arms protectively over her chest, blushing furiously. "T-They are not melons!"

Hanabi flicked her wrist. "Whatever. So what do you feel like eating? We can go with steak, Italian, burgers, you name it."

"Where do you want to eat?" asked Hinata, fingering her chin thoughtfully. "I don't really have a preference."

"Neither do I. I'll just ask Daddy dearest. He's going to be a tad bit late, but he promised to meet up with us later on." Hanabi sensed her older sister's discomfort at the mention of his name. "He's not so bad anymore, you know," she murmured quietly, blank eyes focused on the road. "He's really proud of you."

Hinata looked across at her sister. "I'm sure you had something to do with it," she replied with a cheeky grin, resting her arm against the car door. "Let's go for Italian. I've been dying for some good pasta. That stuff on the plane left a bad taste on my tongue."

Hanabi smirked and accelerated further. "Yes, ma'am."

-

The two siblings laughed cheerily as they entered the Italian restaurant, a cheesy clip-art version of a tomato plastered on the front door of the building. "Three," announced Hanabi, holding three fingers in the air for the waiter to see.

"Right this way, ladies," replied the waiter, grabbing three menus and heading for the dining section.

"The fettuccini alfredo is to _die_ for," gushed Hanabi, stars in her eyes.

Hinata giggled at her sister's expression and replied, "You better watch it, Hanabi. Someday that metabolism of yours is going to slow down, and you're going to find yourself a couple pounds heavier than you used to be. Red sauce is better for you."

Her sister scoffed. "As if. I'm going to enjoy my metabolism while I can."

The waiter pulled out the chairs for the girls and handed them three menus. "I'll be right back to take your orders," he said with a smile, winking at them.

"Ooh, the wine menu," beamed Hanabi, reaching for the maroon-colored display card. "I think a nice merlot would do for today, wouldn't you agree nee-san?"

"Hanabi!" admonished Hinata, snatching the menu from her younger sister. "You're only eighteen, _barely_ legal. Don't try anything silly. They can put you in jail now, you know."

Hanabi stuck her tongue out at her older sister. "They wouldn't be able to do anything, even if they tried. Daddy's got too many connections," she retorted with a smirk.

"Merlot is only good for dinner anyhow," said Hinata with a wave of her hand. "Chardonnay is a better daytime wine."

Hanabi's eyes glinted with a mischievous twinkle. "And I suppose you'd be one to know, Hina-nii? I wonder what kind of troubles and parties you got yourself into in New York… Not everyone's a virgin forever, you know."

Hinata blanched and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. "I assure you, Hanabi, my virginity is still very much intact."

"That makes one of us…"

"Hanabi!" cried Hinata, gripping the table with such force, her knuckles turned white. "You've _done_ it already?! What would father say?" she whisper-yelled, careful not to draw attention from the other diners.

Hanabi burst into peals of laughter, wiping invisible tears of hilarity. "Ah, you should have seen your face. And no, I haven't had _sex _yet," she replied between giggles. "Here I am, thinking you'd gone all wild in New York, and you come back exactly the same. Can't even say the word 'sex'."

"I've changed a little," mumbled Hinata, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. "_You're _the one that hasn't."

Hanabi waved her hand, signaling the conversation was over. "So I'm going out with a couple of friends tonight, wanna come?"

Hinata gave her a pointed look. "In case you didn't notice, New York is three hours ahead of California. I'm only going to be a party pooper by the time it hits eight. Besides, I don't really feel like hanging out with a bunch of prepubescent teenagers like yourself."

"You're only going to be a bigger party pooper by not even showing up," retorted Hanabi, returning her look. "And I _don't_ hang out with your so-called 'prepubescent teenagers'. In fact, I'd be willing to bet money that you'd fall head over heels in love with them."

"Not likely," murmured Hinata, tracing the edge of her spoon. "I don't have any plans for love this year. I've got to get settled in the business world first."

"Ah," replied Hanabi, in a sagacious voice. "But no one really plans on falling in love, you know."

"Good morning ladies! My name's Haku, and I'll be your waiter for today. Would you like to start off with any appetizers?"

Hinata's pearly eyes averted their gaze and turned to the meet the server's. Did he just say wait_er_? This person looks more like a wait_ress_. Hanabi's authoritative voice startled Hinata out of her thoughts. "Hey, Haku. I think we'll go with some bruschetta and that one calamari dish… You want anything, Hinata?"

Hinata blushed prettily as the wait_er_'s gaze (still looked like a woman to her) settled on her. "Oh, I think that's enough for appetizers," she said quietly, snuffling out her immature giggling by coughing into her napkin.

"Are you alright ma'am? Can I get you anything to drink?"

Red as ever, Hinata nodded her head wearily and set her napkin on her lap. "Just a raspberry ice tea please."

"I'll have a coke," announced Hanabi, handing the waiter the menu.

Haku smiled. "I'll have the cooks get started on your appetizers, and I'll get your drinks for ya. Alright?"

"Yeah, thanks," replied Hanabi, settling into her seat.

Hinata smoothed her hair out and rose, pushing her chair back. "I'm going to the bathroom for a moment. Be right back." She shuffled quickly to the other end of the restaurant.

"Pardon my lack of punctuality. There was a short holdup at the office today. Anything I missed?"

Hanabi looked up and sneered. "Uh, _yeah_, the arrival of your eldest daughter."

Hiashi didn't flinch as his daughter's annoyed glare directed its sizzling gaze at him. "Where is she?"

"In the bathroom," she replied airily, waving around her napkin. "I think her psycho-daddy radar went off the chain when she felt your creepy aura enter the restaurant. No worries, Dad. I got your back."

He raised a skeptical eyebrow at his inventive daughter and gracefully sat down in his seat. "Have you ordered yet?"

"Just the appetizers and drinks. Not sure what you wanted, so I didn't order for you. I'll ask the waiter to come by if you want."

"It's fine. I'll just wait."

A startled gasp interrupted their quiet conversation. "F-Father?"

Hiashi turned to reprimand his daughter for stuttering, but the words caught in his throat the moment he laid eyes on her. He didn't wheeze, didn't release some shocked squeak. His silver eyes only widened a fraction for a split second, before his lips quirked in the smallest of frowns. "Hinata."

She bowed respectfully and offered him a small smile before settling into her seat. "Otou-san. You look well."

His jaw hardened and he nodded curtly, deciding to ignore the fact that his decisions to send his oldest daughter out of the country and to foreign places at such a young age had taken its toll. His face was weathered with worry lines and wrinkles. His daughter was probably lying through her teeth, but it one of the few things he was able to teach her face-to-face, many years ago, when she had only been a mere child… "As do you. Was your flight enjoyable?"

"Indeed," she murmured, fiddling with the napkin in her lap. "I met Sasuke Uchiha on board. His brother is the head of Uchiha Pharmaceuticals."

Her father hummed in approval. "I trust you left a good impression?"

Hinata fought back a blush. "Well, he invited me to an engagement party of a friend of his. And I have his phone number."

"Wow Hinata, picking 'em up like a pooper-scooper, eh?" teased Hanabi, a playful smirk on her face.

Hinata's face burned with embarrassment. "He offered. And he sort of saved me from a potentially disastrous conversation with this really weird guy named Bob Jones…"

"It's good to establish _platonic_ relationships," clarified Hiashi, giving the eye to both of his daughters.

"But of course, Daddy dearest. No need to be senile. You're way too young for that," reasoned Hanabi, smiling sweetly at her frowning father.

Haku returned with a tray full of their appetizers and drinks. "Aww," he cooed, setting down the plates. "Is this lunch-with-Daddy time? How endearing!"

Hyuuga Hiashi scowled.

-

The familiar rush of getting ready for an evening party washed over Hinata once again as she bit her lip gently, carefully painting her toenails a sharp silver. She swiftly dipped he brush in and out of the polish bottle and started to work on the last one. Had she known she was going to a party tonight, she would have arranged an appointment with the local salon, but she didn't have any of their numbers, seeing as she'd just moved, and she figured Hanabi wouldn't have a clue either. Twisting the cap back on the small bottle, she allowed a self-satisfied grin, gingerly standing up, careful not to let anything touch her still-drying toenails. Hinata set down the bottle on her bathroom counter and entered her room, tiptoeing precariously on the carpet.

She swung open the doors of her walk-in closet and surveyed the area, sending a pleased smile towards the stacked shelves and occupied racks. Everything was already unpacked for her. Though Hinata had only taken two bags with her on the plane, she'd shipped everything else, including the rest of her room décor, closet, and tiny kitchen appliances, to this house; her shipment should be arriving in about a weeks' time. She ran her fingers through her hanging garments and settled on a long, slightly rumpled shirt, along with a pair of tights and a thick belt to go around her waist. She hooked in some medium-sized hoop earrings and adorned her fingers and wrists with other accessories, giving one approving glance in her full-length mirror behind the closet door.

"Hana-chan!" she yelled as she stepped into the hallway outside her room, glancing to the side. "Hanabi!"

"What?" came a muffled response, from around the bend. Hinata sighed and walked briskly across the carpeted floor, her hand trailing on the wall beside her. "Hanab—whoa."

Hanabi looked up for a short moment. "Yeah?"

She was sitting in the upstairs foyer, watching some cheesy telenovela with the maids. They were lounging together, all comfortably resting on the L-shaped minimalist black couch. "What's up, big sis? Wow, you look good."

"I, uh… Why are you watching Spanish soap operas?"

Hanabi shrugged. "Hell if I know. Grey's Anatomy won't be on for another half hour, so I figured, might as well."

Hinata quirked an eyebrow but didn't comment. "When are we leaving?"

"Oh, in about an hour and a half I guess. I always show up late, don't worry about it."

"Sí, la niña es muy perezosa…" remarked one of the maids, casting a withering look in Hanabi's direction.

"Yo sé," replied Hinata with a huff. "But if I try to do anything about it, she goes all 'peligrosa' on me."

"I'm right here you know," barked Hanabi, "and for chrissake, don't complain to me about being late. You aren't exactly Ms. Punctual either, Nee-san."

Hinata scoffed (or, came about as close to scoffing as she could) and replied, "I'm always on time. Always. Father says that punctuality is the key to influence, and influence the key to leadership."

"Father quotes John Maxwell. So stop your yammering. If you really wanted to go to that party so badly, you should've just told me."

"It's not that I'm _that_ thrilled to go," retorted Hinata, biting her lip, "I'm just worried I might pass out by the time it hits nine."

Hanabi stood up, handing the remote control to one of the maids. "Oh shut up. I'm sure you've spent countless hours working on that master's thesis of yours. One bedtime past midnight isn't going to kill you. I'll be in my room if you need me," she said over her shoulder.

Hinata wrung her hands nervously and ducked back into her room, putting on the top polish for her nails.

-

Clad in a tattered denim miniskirt and cream-colored top, Hanabi grabbed her poofy black Eskimo jacket and slipped it over her bare shoulders. She knocked on the door of her sister's room, holding a small purse in her hands. "Ready to go?" she asked, knocking once more.

"Almost. You can come in," called Hinata. Hanabi stepped inside, watching her sister apply the last few strokes of eyeliner.

"I thought you don't like makeup," observed Hanabi, leaning against the doorframe.

Hinata looked at her through her mirror. "I don't. But I want to make a decent impression on your friends." She dropped the eyeliner back in her bag and smiled at Hanabi. "Alright. Let's go."

The two sisters ambled out of the room and headed downstairs. Hanabi fished her keys out of her back pocket and went into the garage, Hinata following closely behind.

Hinata moved towards the car that Hanabi had driven earlier, but stopped short when she realized Hanabi was entering a different car, a sleek Mercedes SLK. She rose her eyebrow. "You have another car…?"

Hanabi smirked. "No. It's Neji's, but whatever, he uses my car all the time."

"Neji-nii? Is he here?" asked Hinata, realizing she hadn't yet seen her cousin.

"No, he's at work with dad. He usually doesn't get home till late. Hop in!"

Hinata stared skeptically at her sister's overenthusiastic smile. "Are you sure he'd agree to this? The Neji I remember was a stick in the mud."

"Yes, _Onee-san_, just like you're being right now. Come on! Let's go already," persisted Hanabi. Hinata conceded and went inside the car, settling into the rich blackness of the Italian leather.

The garage door opened, and Hanabi sped out, driving down the cul-de-sac. "So, Dad seemed pretty pleased with you."

"Yeah, it was somewhat relieving," replied Hinata, "finally seeing him after so long. I was worried when I first saw him, but you're right. He's not so bad anymore, if at all."

"I can't wait till everyone meets you," said Hanabi excitedly, glancing at her sister out of the corner of her eye.

Hinata sighed. "I just hope they're not too loud."

-

**This chapter was **_**supposed**_** to cover the party as well, but the chapter itself got too long, sorry.  
****I don't exactly know how girls get ready for parties, but I asked my sister, and assuming that she's a girl .. haha.  
****It was a boring chapter, but I had to write it. Next one will be more interesting (;  
****­****Oh, and this won't be a SasuHina right off the bat.**

**I'm well aware that a **_**real **_**socialite would NEVER drive around in a G37 like Hanabi did, but whatever.  
****This is my story. I call the shots.  
****If I want Hanabi to be a smoking hot racer chick, then she will be ;D  
****And I know rich people don't generally watch telenovas with their maids.**

**Merry Christmas! And Happy New Year!**

**I appreciate the positive feedback. Thanks guys (:  
****Huge thanks to my brilliant betas, xAmaterasux and animebubbles :D**


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